


Mist and Shadows

by i_claudia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: Epilogue Compliant, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-25
Updated: 2008-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_claudia/pseuds/i_claudia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry had been trying to get that stare, that face out of his head for years, and he liked to think he’d mostly succeeded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mist and Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Written for last drabble writer standing and originally posted on LJ [here](http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/9535.html#cutid1). (25 May 2008)

Harry had been trying to get that stare, that face out of his head for years, and he liked to think he’d mostly succeeded. He just hadn’t been prepared for it this time; he was really completely unaffected. _See?_ he told himself triumphantly, _I’ve moved on. I’ve_ matured _; there’s nothing to worry about_

He knew he was lying. From the moment Draco Malfoy had nodded at them, his eyes locked on Harry’s, he’d known with devastating clarity that nothing but appearances had changed.

Glancing back over his shoulder as they left the platform, he caught a glimpse of the pale hair, the severe black coat, and something in his chest clenched uncomfortably. He wondered if Draco’s wife made fun of his hair, or if their marriage was a polite arrangement, decorous to a fault. He wondered if Draco had ever fought with her under a thunderstorm, sopping wet and screaming to be heard until they came to blows which turned to bruising kisses.

He’d started to turn away when Draco looked straight at him, his gaze level and inscrutable, and Harry was pinned, helpless once more. Draco regarded him coolly before one corner of his mouth twisted and he shook his head slightly, tearing his eyes away from Harry’s and turning back to his wife. Reluctantly, Harry did the same, trying to ignore the feeling that he’d been kicked in the gut.

He squeezed Ginny’s hand extra hard, and she patted his hand absently, distracted by Lily, who seemed to believe that being the only child at home meant ice cream every day. _This_ was solid, he knew. A wife and children he doted on, a nice house, a good job. It was stupid to want more, to believe he could dip into the honey pot with both hands, but he couldn’t help himself.

His scar hadn’t hurt once in nineteen years, true, but Harry thought that he’d take that in an instant over the steady ache reemerging in his chest, the gnawing sting he’d almost forgotten of waking up one morning and finding Draco gone, finding that everything he’d thought was real was nothing more than lingering mist and shadows.


End file.
